Paying Back
by lilienprinzessin
Summary: This story deals with the scene in which Lorelai paid back the Chilton loan. It contains different POV's.
1. Emily

_I was watching the rerun of 3.18 lately and this just popped into my head. A four chapter story with several POV's dealing with the scene in which Lorelai paid back the Chilton loan. I think that scene was very well written and of course it all belongs to ASP. I just added some thoughts and expanded some scenes._

_Many thanks to __**gjoni**__ for proofreading even though she's quite busy at the moment. _

_I hope you enjoy it. I'd be happy to hear your opinions._

**Paying Back**

**Emily**

My daughter is turning 35 today. And she will celebrate with us. I can't believe it. The first time in years we'll actually see her on her birthday. When Rory's birthday fell on a Friday two years ago Lorelai wanted to postpone Friday night dinner – not that I'd let her, seeing that I finally had the chance to celebrate Rory's birthday with them – but this year nothing. She didn't even try. And that makes me happier than she'll ever know. She probably would try to get out of it, if she knew. But no dark thoughts now. I have everything prepared, her favourite food and a cake with candles on top. She'll love it. I want her to enjoy our celebration, though I guess that there'll probably be some party with those silly town folks afterwards. I just hope they don't try to get out of here as fast as possible.

* * *

Dinner is going very smoothly. They don't seem to be in a hurry and the atmosphere is light. We're teasing each other and it seems that really everyone is having a good time. I even offer to let Teresa bring out Lorelai's cake again, since apparently being 35 isn't too old to blow out the candles. I wouldn't have acted like that years ago. I decide to have cake in the living room. It's even nicer there - less formal. Richard is leading me to our place and I hear that the girls are whispering something about a party. I knew it. Yet being asked they don't answer and they don't seem to be in a rush so I let it go. I don't want to risk spoiling the good mood.

When she brings the candles up again – she didn't blow them out after all – I have to think of her rabbit, Murray. I've been thinking a lot about her childhood in the past days. She was terrified of the animal and I had no choice but to give it away. Of course she denies it again. But I don't want to start a discussion about it – yet again.

My thoughts are interrupted by Richard anyway, who is congratulating Lorelai on her 36th birthday. Is he serious? How can he not know how old she is? A business man should be used to numbers. I shake my head. Sometimes I don't know where his thoughts are.

"Mom, I have something for you," my daughter addresses me. Really?

"For me? It's not my birthday," I reply surprised.

"I know, but here," she says, handing me an envelope.

"What is this?" I ask her, being curious.

"It's from Murray. It's taken him this long to write it partially 'cause of the hurt and pain and partially 'cause he has paws," she tries to joke, but seeing what it is, I'm not in the mood to joke at all.

"What is this?" I ask her again my tone getting serious, staring at the check in front of me. I don't want this. Not at all.

"That is what I owe you," she explains. Of course. She can't accept anything from me.

"What you owe me?" I ask nonetheless, even though I know exactly what this is about.

"For Rory's school. I promised you I'd pay you back and now I have, every cent. Thank you again for helping us out. There's no way Rory would be going to Yale if it wasn't for this money, if it wasn't for you," she explains what I already know. There's no need to thank me. She's my granddaughter. Of course we paid for it. _Thank you_. As if she'd be serious about this.

"You're welcome," I reply icily. They won't come anymore. My great plan is going down the drain. I won't see them anymore. I loved to have them over. Where does she have so much money from anyway? I thought I was safe.

"Okay, so. . .," Lorelai trails off. Sure now you want to leave. Can't get out of here soon enough, right? And choosing the day I gave birth to her 35 years ago. How can she be so cruel?

"You must be very relieved," I say.

"Excuse me?" she replies. Don't play dumb with me, Lorelai.

"Your debt is paid, you owe us nothing," I state.

"Well, yeah," she admits. That's what you wanted right? Was it so horrible to come here? Once a week? For about three hours? Is that asking too much? It's over now anyway.

"You don't need us anymore," I can't help saying.

"Um, I didn't say –," she starts, but I interrupt her. Of course you did.

"You don't have to deal with us. You don't have to come over for Friday night dinners. It all works out beautifully, doesn't it?" I say passive aggressively, putting on a mask. Inwardly I'm already breaking down, but I can't let that happen so I need anger to mask my hurt.

"This isn't about that, Mom," she tries to placate me. Of course it is.

"Oh no?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, I owed you money and I paid you back," she says. Sure it's that simple for you isn't it? That I finally got to know you and Rory, that we at last had a bit of a family life that doesn't count at all, right? As if it was ever about the money for me. You can have twice as much - you're going to inherit it anyway at some point. Why can't you accept anything from us?

"I don't want it," I state. And it's true, I don't. Not for the money and certainly not for what it stands.

"I can't believe you're mad that I'm paying you back," she says seemingly upset.

"I'm not mad, I just think it's extremely unkind of you to use this occasion to inform me you won't be coming over anymore," I reply. Your birthday. Didn't you think about that at all? What this day means to me as well? To celebrate it with you?

"I didn't say that," she defends herself.

"This says that!" I cry out, holding the check in front of me. It seems as if it's burning from my hands right into my heart. No, I don't want it.

"Mom, let me ask you something – wouldn't you rather we came over here because we wanted to, not because of some threat you're holding over our heads?" she says, talking to me like I'm a child. As if she'd ever come here on her own.

"Oh, and you would come here voluntarily?" I counter.

"I always said I would pay you back. This is not a surprise," she says, not answering my question at all. Because we both know she wouldn't come here voluntarily. She never did.

"No, it certainly isn't," I answer her nonetheless. I'm losing her – again.

"I was trying to do a good thing here. When Dad gave me the money…,"

Dad. Richard. I didn't even hear what she said after that. How could he? How can he take from me what I cherish most? My girls. He was here 17 years ago he knows what I went through. Does he want those times to come back? Surely not, so why did he do this? "When Dad gave you the money? When Dad gave her the money?" I say upset, glaring at him.

"Now, Emily –," he tries to calm me, but I won't have it.

"You gave her this?" I ask incredulously, getting louder and still holding the burning paper in my hand. I can't believe it.

"It was her money," he says. What does that mean?

"It was from that investment, Mom," Lorelai interferes. What investment?

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of this," Richard snaps at her. So he does feel guilty. He should. How could he?

"Why are you mad at me?" Lorelai asks her father. How could he do that to me I'm asking myself.

"I told you not to tell your mother about that money," he replies. He's in so much trouble now. First giving her so much money and then trying to keep it secret? How could you, Richard? They're arguing about whether or not he told her to keep it secret, but all I can think of is that it's his fault, she's paying me back. His fault I won't see her anymore. How could he? When Lorelai gets louder I half listen to them again.

"Dad, I swear you didn't tell me not to tell Mom," Lorelai says upset.

"Why do you think I met you in the day at a restaurant, Lorelai? Think!" Richard replies equally upset. I don't want to hear this anymore. Whether he did tell her or not, fact is he wanted to keep it secret. I interrupt Lorelai's next defence.

"You kept this from me, Richard?" I say, still looking at him, my voice angry.

"I knew you would be upset," he tries to defend himself. Well you sure were right about that.

"You lied to me," I state getting even more upset. His lie makes it even worse.

"I had to give it to her. I was legally obligated," he explains. I don't want to hear such rubbish.

"You're also legally obligated to your wife," I counter.

"Mom –,"

"Don't you talk to me!" I snap at my daughter. You clearly said enough this evening.

"Now, you're overreacting," Richard says. Overreacting?!?! Doesn't he know what he did? What this means?

"Don't you talk to me either!" I snap at him. I don't want to hear anything anymore. From anybody.

"Don't be mad at Dad," Lorelai tries – well whatever I don't care anymore.

"Stay out of this!" Richard commands.

"I just –,"

"Well, don't!" he snaps at her again.

"Mom, please. Just because I gave you this money doesn't mean we're never gonna come over here again. We will come over. Maybe not every week, but there will be the occasional Friday night dinners," she tries to placate me. As if. Occasional. Saying that now – this late - means she won't come. Occasional. Christmas and Easter. I had that for years, thank you very much.

"No, there won't," I state. Forced phone calls. Putting on Rory who can't even talk. I can't stand this any longer.

"Grandma –,"

Rory. I'm too upset to talk to her. I have to get out of here. "I don't need anybody doing me any favours. You are released from your obligation, Lorelai. Have a nice birthday, have a nice life, I'm going to bed," I spat, getting up and going upstairs.

"Dad –,"

"Not now!" he says angrily, and I hear him following me. I want to be alone. I slam the door behind me, going straight through our room, open the doors to our balcony and step outside. Air, I need air. I hear that he's still behind me. Slowly he stops at the doors to the balcony. For a minute there's silence and I have to keep my temper in check. The tears just as much as the shouting. "Emily," he begins softly after a while.

"Leave me alone," I say icily. I can't handle this now. I don't want to handle this now. I want to be alone.

"Emily, please," he tries once more.

"No! Go Richard, go!" I yell, turning around. "Leave me alone. I can't talk about this right now. Go!" I shout at him, tears brimming in my eyes. He gives me a defeated look and slowly leaves our room, his shoulders hanging. And finally I allow my tears to fall. Without any sound. Nobody is allowed to hear Emily Gilmore cry. Certainly not Lorelai. Her birthday. How much I looked forward to this day. Now I wish it had never happened. She won't come, I just know it. I knew it the moment I saw the check. Her "_occasional"_ only confirmed it. I bite my lip to prevent myself from crying out loud. How can they do this to me? Richard and Lorelai.

Rory. Maybe I'll still see Rory. She didn't look happy, right? I should've paid more attention to her. Rory. I have to stick with that thought otherwise I'm going to go mad again. And I can't let that happen again. It would destroy us, Richard and me. And despite what he did, I love him.

I don't go downstairs anymore. After a while I have no more tears and go to bed. That's what I told them I'd do anyway. Of course I don't sleep, how could I? My whole world is turned upside down. I lived for those Fridays more than I care to admit. I thought at least Richard would know about it, but given his actions this week I'm not so sure anymore.

It takes a long while for him to come into our room again. I don't face him, but I hear how he's undressing. When he returns from the bathroom he sits down on my side of the bed. "Emily?" he starts again. His breath smells of scotch. I don't open my eyes. Finally he sighs and goes over to his side. We're both awake.

"Emily, I'm sorry," he says, reaching out to touch me. I flinch and he retreats again. "Do you still want me to go?" he whispers and I can hear the slight fear in his voice. So now you want to leave me as well? "Please, say something," he begs.

"How could you do that? How could you give her that money? Behind my back? How could you?" I scream, sitting up and switching on my light. "You really want to talk about it now then explain to me how you could do this to me?" I'm glaring daggers at him.

"It was her money, Emily," he starts again. Oh please. As if she'd ever taken anything from us. Yes, why did she take this anyway? That's so not Lorelai. I wonder what he told her.

"Is that your whole explanation? You didn't even tell me about it, is it still secret? Why did she take it anyway? She never takes anything from us. What kind of investment?" I ask angrily.

"Remember when she was born I invested in real estate in her name. They had to sell it now and since the investment was made in her name she gets the check. Of course I had to convince her it's not a gift," he says. So he had to convince her. I knew it. Why did he do that?

"So you just _had to_ convince her, didn't you?" I ask cynically.

"So what? You want me to keep that money from her? It's legally hers you want me to betray her? My own daughter? Is that what you want?" he asks angrily.

"I want my girls," I whisper, a tear rolling down my cheek. This time I don't flinch when he wipes it away, his anger vanishing as soon as it appeared.

"Rory will still come, I'm sure of that," he tries to soothe me. "She told me to tell you that she'll come regularly – not occasionally, she specifically said that. Like stopping by after school," he says.

"She did?" I ask, looking at him. He nods. Rory. She's a nice girl. At least I won't lose her. At least something.

"I'm sorry," he offers. I keep quiet. "You won't lose them again," he says. I look at him.

"She won't come here anymore," I say, tears glistening in my eyes again. "She doesn't have to," I add.

"She will, she said so," he replies. Are you that naïve, Richard?

"She won't. Didn't you hear her? Occasionally. That means Christmas and Easter – at most," I say, taking a deep breath. "After all those years I finally had them back. And you had to go and give her money to repay me," I state.

"I didn't think she'd use it to pay us back," he says.

"Oh Richard, of course she would. Maybe I don't know her, but you certainly don't either," I state. Why did you do that Richard? Just because it's legally the right thing? It's legally right to take my daughter away from me?

"And I'm sure Lorelai will come as well. Please Emily, don't think the worst. You won't lose them again. I promise," he says, looking lovingly at me, guessing my dark thoughts.

"And how do you want to keep that promise?" I ask him. Thanks to you Lorelai has money now, so that's not the way to get her. I can already see myself tricking her into phone calls again. No – not this time. But deep down I know that at some point I will. I need to talk to her, to hear her voice. Even if it's only about some small talk like weather.

"I'll keep it. I'll talk to her. I'll do whatever it takes, but you won't lose them again. Please Emily, believe me, this isn't what I had in mind," -

"Yet you kept it a secret," I interrupt him. I know I'm right, when he looks guiltily at me.

"You won't go through that again. I promise. Do you believe me?" he asks, looking at me. I want to, I really want to.

"I'll try," I mumble after a while.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asks, sounding like a little boy.

"Yes," I say. He looks at me to decide whether or not I'm serious, but I am.

"Forgive me, Emily," he says, sounding sincere.

"I'll try," I reply, giving him a small smile. Years ago I would've stayed stubborn, but that's no use. That way I'd be without him and even though he did this to me (well he and Lorelai to be fair) I know I need him. And I know that at some point we'll make up anyway, so why prolong it? I see relief in his eyes. Cautiously he picks up my hand and kisses it. I don't withdraw.

"Thank you," he says. I nod. Still he doesn't dare to kiss me, so this is our goodnight kiss. I switch off the light again. I feel exhausted. I can't sleep and judging by his breathing neither can he. When I turn away from him, I feel how he slowly moves in closer and very cautiously puts his arm around me. I let it happen. In a way it even soothes me that though I might have lost my daughter again, I still have my husband. He, who helped me through the worst time in my life. I'll never forget what he did for me back then. Before I drift off to sleep, I feel a light kiss on my hair.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant to," he mumbles. I know Richard. I put my hand above his, caressing it softly.

"Goodnight, Richard," I say.

"Goodnight, Emily," he replies. Finally we're able to sleep.


	2. Rory

**Rory**

It's my mother's birthday week and I'm planning to give her the world's biggest pizza on Friday. Well that was the plan, but 123 feet is a bit much, so obviously that's not possible, but a big pizza it will be. At least I hope so. I'll kill the guys if they screw it up. It's my surprise for her. As are the cake, the music, etc. but I'm not worried about that. The pizza however… Apparently Kirk had an accident involving cheese. Well, Kirk… They even dared to suggest the idea of a cheese-less pizza. Who ever heard of such a thing? Or a pizza doily, collage, whatever. I really had to put my foot down. I want one big pizza for her.

Other than arguing with Pete and Kirk the week was great and turning out as planned. Of course she already suspects that I have a plan for tonight after Friday night dinner, but she doesn't have a clue about the pizza. At least I hope not. It cost me a lot of nerves already. Not only telling the guys to get it together no matter what, but it seems that I upset Sookie and Jackson and I really didn't mean to do that. Right that was the other not so great thing this week (and Paris' piercing, but that's another story). I guess I'll apologize to Sookie tonight. I didn't mean to keep her out of it. It just doesn't seem to be her thing.

And then the big surprise. Apparently we're rich now. Grandpa gave Mom some money – an investment he made in her name on the day she was born – and we made up silly things to spend it on, like buying a boat. But I like these talks. They're funny and carefree – like Mom.

Right now we're having a pleasant birthday dinner with my grandparents. It's nice. I love seeing them getting along so well. Often these evenings are tense – though I wouldn't want to miss them – but tonight everyone seems happy and that's a nice feeling. Like a happy little family. Something I always wanted. I'm glad I got to know them, I'm glad Mom went to them because of Chilton. Being a little girl, I missed my grandmother, especially when other girls talked of theirs. I wish I'd gotten to know them sooner, but well, that's how it is, and I don't want to hurt Mom, so I don't talk about it. I don't want to hurt my grandparents either, so often I'm the buffer between them, which makes these dinners a little exhausting sometimes. But not today. Today we're teasing Mom about blowing out candles. When Grandma suggests going to the living room for dessert, Mom quietly asks me whether or not we still have enough time, because she doesn't want to miss her party. I knew she'd know about it. But not about the pizza. Anyway there's enough time left. So that's what I tell her. Grandma wants to know what we're talking about, but Mom quickly dismisses that question.

They're talking about some bunny story. Apparently Mom had one when she was little and was scared of it. Well she never was good with pets, so I can believe that. Anyway I seldom hear about these things, so I keep quiet and observe them. I like hearing stories about her childhood - especially when they don't only consist of complaints. They really get along much better than two years ago.

"I wonder where Murray is now," Mom says, still wondering about her rabbit.

"In a shoebox somewhere, I assume," Grandpa replies.

"Grandpa," I say, trying to sound shocked. But I'm amused as well. Even more when he mixes up how old Mom is. Making her a year older. Too funny. We toast.

Then Mom reaches into her purse and hands Grandma an envelope. I'm curious as well, since I have no clue that she wanted to give her anything. She's the birthday girl after all – not vice versa. Grandma is observing as well. When she asks what it is, Mom jokes and that doesn't sound good. Sometimes Mom jokes when she doesn't want to be serious, even though the matter at hand is. Seeing Grandma's look after opening it, I'm even more positive it's not good at all. I can practically sense the fight. Why did she have to do this? Today was so nice. Apparently she wrote Grandma a check with the money she got from Grandpa – which is slightly ironic – and paid her back for Chilton. Mom thanks her again, but Grandma is turning into ice. Grandpa looks troubled as well. I hate it. And now Grandma turns to attack – because she thinks she won't see us anymore. But I'll still come, don't you know that? Now she's saying she doesn't want the money. Of course she doesn't want it. I could've told Mom that before. Now Mom gets mad as well. Grandma is hurt that she got the check today and I have to agree with her on that. The timing is bad. I wish Mom had told me about it. Now she's asking Grandma if she wouldn't prefer we'd come here on our own and not because of some kind of threat. Well I don't come here because of some threat, and I'm not even sure Mom does. I think deep down she enjoys it as well - at least sometimes. Still she hides this very well, since Grandma doesn't believe that Mom would come voluntarily.

When Mom mentions Grandpa I realize why he looks so troubled. Not only because of the fight, but because Grandma didn't know about the money. Great now they're fighting as well. Usually it's Mom and Grandma and Grandpa and me are on the sidelines listening, hoping it will fade away. Now my grandparents are fighting. I hate it. Grandpa and Mom too. About whether or not it was a secret meeting. I tend to believe Mom, since she didn't tell me to keep it secret. And she would've told me, right? But then I had no clue that she decided to use the money for this either. Everyone is fighting now. The only thing Grandma and Grandpa agree on is that Mom shouldn't say anything anymore. In fact Grandma doesn't want to hear anything anymore.

"Mom, please. Just because I gave you this money doesn't mean we're never gonna come over here again," Mom says and for a moment I have hope it will turn around again. That the fighting will stop. "We will come over. Maybe not every week, but there will be the occasional Friday night dinners," she adds. And then I know that it won't.

"No, there won't," Grandma says. And that confirms it. Why couldn't Mom say that we'll still come? I kept out of it until now, but this is getting out of hand and I want to assure Grandma that I'm still coming over. I don't want to lose them.

"Grandma –," I start but she's too angry to listen to me.

"I don't need anybody doing me any favours. You are released from your obligation, Lorelai. Have a nice birthday, have a nice life, I'm going to bed," Grandma says upset, getting up to leave. Great. Are you happy now Mom? Grandpa is going after Grandma.

"Dad –," Mom starts, but is interrupted as well.

"Not now!" Grandpa says angrily. Now it's just the two of us. And the maid who brings us the cake right then. We both stare at it. Mom with her arms crossed, she looks a little like a defiant kid. I don't say anything, since I don't want to fight right now. Then really everyone would be fighting - except me and my grandparents. Mom is reaching for her cake, taking a bite of it.

"Don't you want to try?" she asks me.

"I'm not hungry," I state.

"Waiting for the good stuff, huh? What cake did you order for me? Who's making it? Sookie? Fran?" she says, sounding cheerful – fake cheerful.

"Who says I ordered cake?" I counter.

"I do. Because there will be a party," she says stubbornly.

"If you say so," I reply.

"I do. And I think we should go there now," she says.

"You want to leave like that?" I ask incredulously.

"I don't think we have much of a choice. They left us," she says and just when I want to say something about that, Grandpa comes downstairs, looking sad. Very sad. Looking at Mom her mood changes as well. So she isn't as cool as she wants to be.

"Dad. I didn't mean to," -

"What? Upset your mother? Why did you do that?" he asks her, what I'm asking myself as well.

"I was paying my debt. I think you'd approve of such behaviour. I'm sorry Mom is upset, but I can't help it," Mom says defensively.

"I think you should leave now," Grandpa says, still looking defeated.

"Ditto," Mom says, sounding just as cold as Grandma. She grabs her purse and leaves the living room. I go to Grandpa to give him a hug. He surely looks like he needs one. He even clings to me for a moment – the only Gilmore Girl who's not mad at him right now.

"Tell Grandma that I'll still come here regularly – not occasionally," I say, stressing the last words. "I could stop by after school for example," I offer. He looks at me gratefully.

"Thank you, Rory. You're a good girl," he says, giving my head a kiss.

"Goodbye, Grandpa. See you soon," I say, trying to cheer him up. I don't think I succeed, but he gives me a little smile. Then I follow Mom outside.

The drive is very quiet. Mom tries to make some small talk, but my replies are very short. I still don't get why she did this. Everything was so nice until that moment. At last she gives up her attempts to start a conversation and we drive back in silence.

We're going through the town square. There is another party after all. And the pizza. For a while I forgot about it. But my thoughts are still with my grandparents. And why Mom did what she did. I'm walking a few steps ahead of her.

"You're quiet," she starts, catching up with me. I look away from her. "I know they were upset, Hon, but trust me, they'll calm down," she finally says, walking beside me. So I guess we will talk about it after all.

"Why did you do that?" I finally ask.

"Excuse me?" she asks, turning towards me.

"Just giving them that check like that," I say accusingly.

"Rory, I borrowed that money," she explains.

"I know you did, but you had to have known that they'd get upset. You had to know that Grandma would take it personally," I go on. How did she not see this coming? Or did she and just didn't care?

"Well, what would you have me do, not pay them back?"

"Maybe," I reply.

"Maybe?" she says incredulously, turning towards me.

"Well, they didn't want the money back," I point out.

"It's not the point," she dismisses me.

"Well, it's kind of the point," I counter.

"No, Rory, it's not the point at all," she says.

"They were throwing you a party, Mom," I say. She really doesn't get it.

"Sorry, did I miss something? Did I dance around saying "nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah" when I gave her the check?" she asks, getting slightly offensive.

"No," I reply.

"Did, did I not thank her – genuinely thank her for everything?"

"Yes," I reply, thinking that this isn't the point.

"Did I not credit your getting into Yale with them giving us that money?" she asks.

"Yes, but –," I start, but now she's really upset.

"Unh uh, no buts," she says, stopping. Now we're facing each other. "Listen Rory, I'm not sure if you're aware of how hard it has been for me these past three years to be indebted to my parents," she says and I look down. I know what she did for me and how hard it was for her, but is it my fault she took me away from them? Is it my fault I want to be in touch with them? Did she even think about me and what these Fridays meant for me? "I decided a long time ago that I was gonna live my life without their help, but I went to them and I took their money and I'm not sorry I did, it was the right thing for you, but I don't need their help anymore," she finishes.

"Fine, but you don't have to just throw it in their faces like that," I say.

"I paid back a loan. You're supposed to pay back a loan. I have Polonius and the entire banking system on my side," she says upset.

"I just think you could've done it differently," I say stubbornly.

"How?" she asks me.

"I don't know," I reply. I know that's a lame answer, but right now I really don't. I had no time to think about this. Why didn't we think this through? I'm sure there's a better way.

"Take a shot," she challenges me.

"I don't know," I reply. You didn't give me time to think about it.

"Rory, my relationship with my parents is very different from your relationship with them. You only know the warm and fuzzy Richard and Emily, and I only want you to know the warm and fuzzy Richard and Emily because they're your grandparents and they love you, but I have a different history with them and it was not all warm and it was definitely not all fuzzy. So do not judge me for repaying a loan that I always intended to repay, that I told them from the beginning I would repay, that I had to repay. I will not let them make me feel guilty for doing that and I will not let you make me feel guilty for doing that either," she says. She's partly getting to me with that speech. I know they're different to her, but she's also different to them. I still think there'd be another way, but it's her birthday and I don't need another fight today.

"I'm sorry," I offer.

"It's okay," she accepts. I'm glad she did. She links her arm through mine and after some steps I already see the big pizza which is being lowered by a crane. I knew they'd find a way.

"Oh my God. What is that?" Mom asks surprised.

"The world's largest pizza. Almost," I reply.

"That is amazing," she says smiling.

"You like it?" I ask my tone soft.

"I love it. Thank you honey," she says sounding happy. Slowly we walk towards the pizza and her second party. "Hey, what happened to Kirk?" she asks me and I recall the whole pizza story for her.

Mom seems to be enjoying her party. I try to as well, but I can't. Not really. I'm constantly thinking of Grandma and Grandpa. I hope the others don't notice. I'm amazed at how soon Mom is able to forget the fight with the grandparents. Or is she just pretending as well? But I don't think so.

Lying in bed, I think about her very legitimate question how else she should've done it. I get that she had to pay them back. It's important for her, she can't help it. She needs to be independent from Grandma. But she wasn't very tactful going about it. Of course Grandma would think she wouldn't come anymore and Mom didn't really say otherwise. Does she really not want to go there again? I thought she liked the dinners too by now. And going there without obligation they could've been even better.

She shouldn't have done it today. So another day is the first thing she could've changed. I'm thinking about writing a list, but I'm too tired and it's no use anyway given that I can't change what happened.

_Thank you. Here's the check. We'll stop by occasionally._ No wonder Grandma is upset. I really have to go there after school. And suddenly it hits me. She could've invited them over. They never were here, we always went to them. We could've thrown them a thank you party. And she should've said that we're still coming – regularly. That's the least she could've done. I wonder if I'll tell her in the morning, but then I don't want to fight and what's the use? What's done is done. I'll check up on Grandma and those two survived fights before. And if they're both stubborn – which is very likely – I have to help them to get back together again, dropping some hints and so on. I'll find a way. I don't think Mom meant to hurt Grandma like that – still she did. That's the dilemma with them. I can't imagine Mom doesn't want to see her regularly anymore. Because they do care about each other – both of them. I just hate that I'm always in between and torn. I understand both sides – though this time I tend to be a little more on Grandmas side – and I don't want to come between them when they fight. I still wonder if Mom thought at all about what these dinners mean to me, that I still want to see them. And I will, even without Mom. But that wouldn't be the same. I want us four. Somehow it will all turn out well. It has to. With that thought I drift off to sleep.


	3. Lorelai

_Again thanks to __**gjoni**__ for being my beta and for reassuring me about this chapter. Lorelai was hardest to write. I hope you enjoy it._

**Lorelai**

It's my birthday week. Birthday week is one of my best inventions. I've always found it stupid that you only celebrate it on one day when the year has 365. All the big holidays go longer than one day, so why not slowly building up with celebrations until your birthday is there. This year it's Friday for me – which is kind of a downer, since of course that means Friday night dinner. No use trying to get out of that – I learned that the hard way with Rory's 16th birthday – and I have to admit that last Friday night dinner was rather enjoyable. Of course Rory going to Yale did the trick. (My mother really got to me with the distance thing, I hate when she's right.) Anyway we're all happy now and I haven't seen them on my birthday for years, so I'm_ kinda_ looking forward to it – just a little, and I'd never admit it to anyone, not even Rory, who is by the way definitely planning a big celebration for Friday after dinner – she of course denies it, but if there's one thing Rory didn't inherit from me it's the ability to lie to your mother – she just can't do it, I always see right through it. My mother never could (or did she after all)? No, I don't think so. Anyway Rory can't lie and that's why I know that after dinner with my parents the real party will start - the fun part.

Birthday week is also good for taking my mind off the burnt inn. That and the list for Luke – another one of my inventions. Technically it's not my invention, he gave it to me first, but finding all the little things around the house – like everything, and be it just pulling a spoon out of the garbage disposal - that was all me. So stupid I wasted the first year, I could still kick myself for that. Now it's five hours, baby. Five – not four hours and 59 minutes, no, I'll milk the whole five hours. Oh and I was right about Jess – of course I was – he's not going to school. Poor Luke. And he's meeting that Nicole girl, Luke not Jess. I don't know what I think of that. I don't like her – another thing I wouldn't admit to anyone, but she and Luke just don't match. Ugh, even thinking about them puts me in a weird mood so I should try to focus on something else. Given that I'm sitting here, waiting for my dad to arrive, I think about his weird behaviour, while ordering my second piece of pie.

My dad called me. Well technically he didn't call, but his secretary did – the one I got him – but he sat right next to her. That's ridiculous. It's those moments when I know exactly why I ran away from that world. Everything has to be proper and within rules. I shudder at the mere thought. These things were never mine and I wouldn't have it now either. After some demands I finally got dad on the phone and apparently he wanted to meet me. Details I got today from his secretary. That's why I'm here now. In fact I've already been sitting here for 18 minutes – hey it's my father I'm meeting so I have to be precise about that – but he's not turning up. My father being late, usually it would be me. But the cake is good so I don't mind that much.

Finally he arrives, muttering apologies. Apparently some calls took longer than he thought. I dismiss him, telling him about the pie. He's about to start to solve the mystery of this meeting, when we order coffee and ice-tea. Goes without saying for whom the coffee is for.

"So, Lorelai," he starts again.

"So, Dad," I mock him, but he ignores it, thanking me for showing up. Which I return in thanking him for showing up as well and not sending his secretary. That comment also gets ignored. I wonder what he's up to. Apparently that's the next thing he asks me, but I play it down. Suddenly he reaches into his jacket, putting an envelope on the table. Interesting. I'm eyeing it curiously, deciding to go on with my plays and suggest silly things that could be in it. Hat, purse, horse – and my best – George Foreman Grill. Dad ignores these tries and starts a story about my birth. Wow – I hadn't expected that at all. Apparently he immediately invested in some real estate, after mom went to sleep. Not a man to waste time. "You do know how to party, don't you?" I ask mockingly.

"I made this investment in your name," he states.

"Wow, most people just buy a stuffed bear. This is better," I reply. And it is. He must've been really happy. He goes on saying that a road is being built right through it, which puts a damper on my mood, but only for a second because he adds that because of this, the investors are getting a check.

"Since you are one of the investors. . .," he trails off.

"I get a check?" I ask excitedly, grabbing the envelope. That's so cool.

"You get a check," dad confirms.

"Wow! That's. . .," great, I think, while opening the envelope, but the number I see makes me stop in my tracks. I stare at it for some seconds. I hadn't expected this at all. "$ 75.000?" I ask him dumbstruck.

"Yes, it is," he confirms nodding.

"I get $ 75.000 for being born?" I ask incredulously.

"I thought it would be a pleasant surprise," he replies. It sure as hell is.

"This is $ 75.000," I exclaim. So much I could do with it. "75. . .do you have a pen?" I demand. Jimmy Choos. How many Jimmy Choos would that make? $ 500... I take his pen, quickly doing the math. "$ 75.000! $ 75.000! Oh my God, that's like 150 pairs of Jimmy Choos!" I exclaim. Somehow I can't stop saying the sum. It's just so much. I never had even close to that money.

"What are Jimmy Choos?" Dad inquires.

"Shoes," I reply happily.

"150 pairs, that's it?" he says unbelievingly.

"Dad, they're Jimmy Choos," I defend them. We go on a little about shoe prices – he has no clue how much they are – and he insists, that I shop around first before spending that much money on shoes. As if I would. Though one pair… but I agree. However while he went on about shoes and how I should be able to get more of them for $ 75.000 other thoughts were going through my head. As great as it was to see that check in front of me and as happy as I was at first I can't accept such a gift. And it surely looks like a gift, with my birthday being so soon and… "Listen, Dad, this money isn't, um. . . ," I start.

"Isn't what?" he asks.

"It isn't some kind of gift, is it?" I want to make sure.

"Gift?" he asks, not getting it. Yeah gift, what's not to understand?

"Like a birthday gift," I say, rolling my eyes inwardly. "Because if it is, it's too much and I can't –,"

"This isn't a gift. I made this investment in your name. You received a check, that's the way these things work. Legally, I'm obligated to give you that. This isn't charity or generosity, it is the law," he explains and it does make sense. I admit that I want it to make sense as well, but it's my father. It's logical and rational and well he didn't mention any conditions (he's not my mother after all). I'm really getting $ 75.000.

"It's the law that I get to keep $ 75.000," I say more for myself than for him.

"Enjoy the shoes," he says smilingly. I still look at the check unbelievingly.

"$ 75.000... so much I could do with it," I mumble. Buying my own inn with Sookie. Buying – I don't know what, whatever I want. Or Rory wants. Or anyone. Being rich feels way better than I thought. Hmmm, paying them back for Chilton…

"Well, I'm sure you'll find a way to put it to good use," Dad says.

"Thanks, Dad," I say, wanting to compliment him on this great way to celebrate my birth, but he interrupts me.

"There's no need to thank me, Lorelai," he says. "As I said I'm legally obligated to give it to you," he adds again.

"I know, but I meant thanks for celebrating my birthday this way. I'm allowed to thank you for that, aren't I?" I ask, giving him a little wink.

"Yes, you are and you're welcome. I still don't know a better way to celebrate the birth of my beautiful daughter," he says softly, and suddenly he gets an odd expression. As if he's far away. But he called me beautiful. He doesn't do so often – not like that at least. When he sighs I ask him if he's all right.

"Well, I need to get going again. Excuse me, but there are still more calls I have to make," he answers, getting up.

"Sure," I reply, still wondering where his thoughts were and what I'm about to do with my newfound wealth. When I see him reaching for his wallet I at least know the first thing I'm doing with it. "Don't Dad. I'll take care of it. I don't think I'll get poor paying for your tea now," I say, winking again at him. "Are you sure you don't want some pie as well?" I add. Eating wise we're not so different. It's Mom who insists on eating healthy. In fact she could team up with Luke – where did that thought come from? Mom and Luke – another inward shudder. Focus Lorelai. Dad says he has more work to do. Being alone with my check I still can't believe it. $ 75.000. $ 75.000...

* * *

The next days flew by. Rory and me being silly, coming up with ridiculous ideas on how to spend the money. Rory still trying to hide my party from me. Tobin and Michel – Michel! - showering me with gifts. Jealous Michel is funny.

Now I'm trying to decide what to wear. It has to be suitable for Friday night dinner and the party. After throwing half of my clothes on my bed, I decide to go with a knee length black skirt – definitely Emily approved – and a black shirt which has a snake like motif to it – probably not Emily approved. But well I need some fun part for the party. And it's not that it's that bad. Usually I wouldn't mind about my clothes not being to Emily's taste, but today I don't think I should aggravate her with it. I didn't tell Rory because I fear – no, I know - that she'll talk me out of it, but I know exactly what I'm doing with the money. At least part of it. Finally I'm able to pay my parents back. Yes, I know it's kind of ironic, that I only have the money because of Dad, but not using it, would be even more ridiculous. I'll pay them back for Chilton. Finally. The thought alone puts me in a great mood. No more Friday night dinners – well no obligation that is. We'll get our Fridays back. If we don't want to go, we don't have to. After three years we're finally free again. I know Rory and they grew close, and while deep down I am jealous of their relationship, I'm also happy for Rory. She deserves grandparents. And there's certainly nothing to expect from the other side – another shudder. Stupid Haydens. Anyway I'll pay my parents back. And as happy as I am about my newfound freedom I fear that Mom won't take it well. But I always said I would pay them back and when she thought I'd never be able to – well that's not my problem. And she got what she wanted. We're back in her life, she knows Rory and I'll truly thank her for her help. And I'm serious about that. Without their help Rory wouldn't have the opportunities she has now and I'm really grateful for that. It was worth it. Looking into the mirror again, I'm suddenly not so sure about my clothes anymore. Maybe I should change again – but we have to leave soon. "Rory!" I shout. "Fashion crisis, I need you ASAP! Get your pretty butt upstairs!"

* * *

"Happy birthday dear Lorelai, happy birthday to you!" everyone is singing to me. I have a great cake with lots of candles sitting in front of me. Dinner was really nice so far – Mom made (or more correctly ordered) all my favourites - and I can't but smile at them and the cake, which is sadly ordered back to the kitchen by Mom before I can fulfil my birthday duty.

"Wait, aren't I supposed to blow them out?" I try to get it back.

"Oh, Teresa can do that," Mom dismisses me. Hey, I'm serious.

"Mom, it's tradition for the person whose name is on the cake to do the blowing," I complain.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought only children liked to do that. Should we bring it back out and relight it?" she mocks me. Well at least she offered, even if she made it clear she thinks it's ridiculous.

"No," I pout.

"Well, would you like to make a wish and blow out the tapers?" Dad asks me – mockingly as well I might add – pushing the taper towards me.

"Why am I being mocked on my birthday?" I complain to Rory.

"Because that's the Gilmore way," she replies. And she's right. Mom suggests going to the living room for dessert, which is fine with me. When Rory and I lead the way, I check up on time with her, because I don't want to miss the fancy party she planned so secretly. She replies there's enough time left for cake and that it's not that fancy. Ha, so now she doesn't even deny it anymore.

"What are the two of you whispering about?" Mom wants to know. Sure she has to know everything we're talking about.

"Nothing," I dismiss her and I'm not sure she would've let it go that easily hadn't Dad started with champagne.

"Trying to get me drunk so I forget that you wouldn't let me blow out my own candles?" I quickly chime in, distracting her further and I succeed.

"Oh, dear, is this going to be another one of those stories that you tell people for the rest of your life like the bunny story?" she replies darkly – and voila! Topic changed! So easy. The bunny story it is now and I happily go along. It's kinda nice to talk to them like that. About past times, when I was very little, when we weren't fighting.

"His name was Murray, Mom," I state, crossing my arms.

"Oh, Emily, you had to bring that up," Dad complains.

"How could you think I wouldn't notice you gave away my rabbit?" I ask Mom accusingly – and I still don't get it. As if kids would be too stupid to notice. Well I surely wasn't.

"Because you were four and terrified of the thing," she defends.

"I was not terrified, I simply respected his space," I counter, elbowing Rory.

"You slept in the maid's room for a week," Dad observes, handing Rory and me our glasses and for a tiny second I think that he's right. It didn't even occur to me to go to them. Because I was angry at them? Have I ever been in their bed? Something tells me that maybe, when I was even smaller, but I can't really remember.

"I wonder where Murray is now," I muse, still trying to figure out if I ever was in bed with them.

"In a shoebox somewhere, I assume," Dad answers, getting Mom's and his drinks.

"Grandpa," Rory exclaims.

"Very nice, and on my birthday," I comment. I can't remember, so I focus on the present now.

"Once again, a toast to Lorelai on her 36th birthday," Dad says, giving Mom her glass.

"35th," I correct, wondering if that's more mocking or if he's serious.

"Really?" he replies sitting down, looking surprised and as if he's calculating. Unbelievable.

"You're doing the math?" I ask him incredulously. I can't believe it – he really mixed it up.

"Right, sorry. To Lorelai on her 35th birthday," he corrects himself and we all take a sip. So now's the time. They're in a good mood – even Mom, so maybe it will go over well (who am I fooling). But I have to give it to her, no need to prolong it.

"Thank you for the toast, thank you for the dinner, and, uh, in the spirit of the evening – Mom, I have something for you," I say, taking the envelope containing the check out of my purse. As much as I don't want it I feel a little insecure.

"For me? It's not my birthday," she replies surprised.

"I know, but here," I say, handing it to her.

"What is this?" she asks me smilingly. So she has no idea. Somehow I can't say it, so I give a silly answer including my rabbit. Soon, soon she'll know. "What is this?" she asks again, this time being serious, staring at the check. Come on Mom, you know what it is.

"That is what I owe you," I explain nonetheless.

"What you owe me?" she asks, looking at me accusingly. Why is it so hard to stand her look? It shouldn't be I'm doing nothing wrong here.

"For Rory's school. I promised you I'd pay you back and now I have, every cent. Thank you again for helping us out. There's no way Rory would be going to Yale if it wasn't for this money, if it wasn't for you," I explain, what I should've said before. What she knows anyway. I hate that I'm feeling nervous right now.

"You're welcome," she replies icily. I knew it. And soon the attack will follow. Why can't she just accept it?

"Okay, so. . .," I try to avoid the inevitable.

"You must be very relieved," she starts. So here we go.

"Excuse me?" I ask, trying to figure out which way she's going.

"Your debt is paid, you owe us nothing," she states. True. And I'm happy about that – only problem is right now I don't feel like it.

"Well, yeah," I say, throwing my hands up in front of me. I hate how helpless that must look.

"You don't need us anymore," she states further. Again true. Or is it? Do I need her? Does Rory?

"Um, I didn't say –," I start, glancing at Rory for help, but Mom interrupts me.

"You don't have to deal with us. You don't have to come over for Friday night dinners. It all works out beautifully, doesn't it?" she says, becoming passive-aggressive. Typical Emily move. I shouldn't be surprised. And I'm not.

"This isn't about that, Mom," I say firmly. And it's not. It's about me paying back my debt, why can't she comprehend that?

"Oh no?" she asks sarcastically.

"No, I owed you money and I paid you back," I explain, glancing at Dad as well, who's very quiet. Surely he must've known this would happen. They must've known so why all the fuss now? Did they honestly assume I'd spend the money on shoes instead of paying them back?

"I don't want it," Mom states. This is just unfair.

"I can't believe you're mad that I'm paying you back," I reply, getting upset as well by now. I really tried to get this over without a fight, but it's just impossible not to fight with Emily Gilmore when she's so unreasonable. Who doesn't take a debt back?

"I'm not mad, I just think it's extremely unkind of you to use this occasion to inform me you won't be coming over anymore," she says. Of course she's mad. And hearing what she wants. I never said I wouldn't come anymore. It's like it always has been. I say something and she hears something completely different. Why did I ever think this would be any different? But then I didn't. I knew she'd be upset.

"I didn't say that," I defend.

"This says that!" she snaps, holding the check in front of her accusingly.

"Mom, let me ask you something – wouldn't you rather we came over here because we wanted to, not because of some threat you're holding over our heads?" I ask. And I'm serious. Who wants visits out of blackmail?

"Oh, and you would come here voluntarily?" she replies doubtingly.

"I always said I would pay you back. This is not a surprise," I say loudly, trying not to get into another obligation so soon. Why can't she wait and see? I'm sure we'd come and visit at some point. At least we would if she wouldn't start fighting now. Can't she see that's not helping? That it's alienating instead of keeping us?

"No, it certainly isn't," she replies.

"I was trying to do a good thing here. When Dad gave me the money, one of the first things that jumped into my head was to -," I start to explain my point of view to them, but she interrupts me again.

"When Dad gave you the money? When Dad gave her the money?" she says upset, glaring at Dad now. So she didn't know? At all? About the investment? About my $ 75.000? He didn't tell her?

"Now, Emily –," Dad tries to reason with her.

"You gave her this?" she asks incredulously. He didn't tell her.

"It was her money," he explains.

"It was from that investment, Mom," I try to enlighten her.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of this," Dad snaps at me. Hey no reason to be mad at me. You're the one who kept this a secret. As if you hadn't known I'd use it to pay you back.

"Why are you mad at me?" I ask him, being upset now.

"I told you not to tell your mother about that money," he replies. Sure.

"When did you tell me that?" I demand.

"At lunch," he replies.

"You did not."

"I did, too," This is beginning to sound as if we were in kindergarten.

"Dad, I swear you didn't tell me not to tell Mom," I exclaim. And he didn't tell me.

"Why do you think I met you in the day at a restaurant, Lorelai? Think," he demands.

"I –," I start. Well how the hell should I know?

"You kept this from me, Richard?" Mom turns to him again – and saves me. Dad says he knew she'd be upset. Mom counters that he lied to her, and even if I don't want to, right now I feel a little sorry for her. Dad explains his legal obligation to give me the money (so I wouldn't have gotten it otherwise?) and Mom counters by saying that he's also legally obligated to her. They're getting into a fight in front of us. Usually they don't do that and I'm not quite comfortable, feeling a little responsible.

"Mom –," I start, but again (how often by now?) I'm interrupted by her.

"Don't you talk to me!" she snaps at me. Great. This is getting better by the second. In the end we'll all be fighting – except Rory of course. She wouldn't fight. Dad thinks Mom is overreacting and she snaps at him the same way she snapped at me before, which makes me feel a little sorry for Dad as well – even though he's partly to be blamed for this mess.

"Don't be mad at Dad," I try to calm Mom.

"Stay out of this!" he commands. Hey I just wanted to help you.

"I just –,"

"Well, don't!" he snaps. I have to put an end to this. There's another party after all.

"Mom, please. Just because I gave you this money doesn't mean we're never gonna come over here again. We will come over. Maybe not every week, but there will be the occasional Friday night dinners," I finish, hesitating to use the last term and avoiding promising her regular dates. I'm not giving up my freedom so quickly. But I also try to reassure her a little.

"No, there won't," she states. So what am I supposed to do now? She's won't believe anything I'm telling her right now, so there's nothing I can do.

"Grandma –," Rory after being quiet for so long tries to talk some sense into her, but she's not any more successful than I was, since Mom is making it a sport to interrupt us.

"I don't need anybody doing me any favours. You are released from your obligation, Lorelai. Have a nice birthday, have a nice life, I'm going to bed," she says, her tone hard, and goes upstairs. She released me from my obligation, something I had been looking forward to, but it doesn't feel good at all. I know she's hurt, and while I knew it was inevitable and while I don't agree with her reaction, I didn't mean to hurt her – not in the way that she looked at me before she left to go upstairs. I feel guilty and that's what I hate most. Pity and anger – the feelings I have for her right now and the anger will prevail. It has to, it's self-preservation. Dad is going after her.

"Dad –," I start to say, what exactly, I don't know. That I didn't want this? But I'll never know, since my Dad decided to join the sport of interrupting.

"Not now!" he exclaims, going upstairs. I feel small – like a kid again. The maid brings our cake and I cross my arms bracing myself for Rory. I can't wait to hear her opinion. I sigh and we're both staring at my birthday cake – well slices of it. Surprisingly my daughter doesn't address me at all. Is she that mad? At least _she_ has to understand that I needed to do that. I couldn't be indebted to them forever, spending all my Friday evenings here.

"Don't you want to try?" I ask her after a while, breaking the silence.

"I'm not hungry," she states. So she's mad. I sigh inwardly. Happy birthday, Lorelai. Maybe I really should've waited another week. Now the mood for the party is spoiled.

"Waiting for the good stuff, huh? What cake did you order for me? Who's making it? Sookie? Fran?" I ask her, trying to sound cheerful and to distract her – to distract both of us.

"Who says I ordered cake?" she counters. So back to denying again, are we?

"I do. Because there will be a party," I say stubbornly, glad that we're back at this game.

"If you say so," she replies unenthusiastically.

"I do. And I think we should go there now," I say. This atmosphere here is making me sick. I have to get out of here.

"You want to leave like that?" she asks me incredulously.

"I don't think we have much of a choice. They left us," I state turning towards the stairs. Of course this is the moment Dad chose to come back. He looks sad and defeated. Not at all like my strong father. I hate the sight. I hate that I feel responsible for it. "Dad. I didn't mean to," – I start trying to explain myself again, but why do I even still think they'd let me talk.

"What? Upset your mother? Why did you do that?" Dad asks me upset.

"I was paying my debt. I think you'd approve of such behaviour. I'm sorry Mom is upset, but I can't help it," I say defensively. I know they want me to apologize or to promise whatever, but why should I? Again, I did nothing wrong. I paid them back. That's allowed isn't it? Still deep down it feels wrong.

"I think you should leave now," Dad says, in his own quiet firm way. No room for discussion and he's probably right. There's no use right now. You can't talk to Mom anyway when she's like that.

"Ditto," I say coldly, trying to hide my guilt. They'd have a field day if they'd know about it. I grab my purse and go outside, waiting for Rory to follow me. After some minutes she comes, sitting down in the passenger seat. I immediately start the engine. If I hated the atmosphere back there, I hate it even more now. Because I'm not used to being like this with my daughter. I'm used to fighting with my parents and while Rory and I aren't really fighting I know she doesn't approve of what I did. I was right not to tell her in advance. I try to engage her in small talk to cheer us up, but her replies are basically _"yes", "no", "hmm"_ or something like that. At some point I let her be. Arriving in Stars Hollow she gets out of the car walking towards the town square. I follow her.

"You're quiet," I start, catching up with her. She's not looking at me. "I know they were upset, hon, but trust me, they'll calm down," I say. That's so my parents to make a drama out of everything. And how could Dad not tell her?

"Why did you do that?" she finally asks me.

"Excuse me?" I reply turning towards her.

"Just giving them that check like that," she says accusingly.

"Rory, I borrowed that money," I explain. Why is that so hard to understand?

"I know you did, but you had to have known that they'd get upset. You had to know that Grandma would take it personally," she goes on. Of course she'd side with them. But I should try to be fair. She shouldn't be in the middle – but she is.

"Well, what would you have me do, not pay them back?" I ask her, seriously interested in her answer.

"Maybe," she replies. Well that doesn't say much.

"Maybe?" I ask incredulously, turning towards her.

"Well, they didn't want the money back," she points out.

"It's not the point," I dismiss her. She really doesn't seem to get it either.

"Well, it's kind of the point," she counters.

"No, Rory, it's not the point at all," I say firmly.

"They were throwing you a party, Mom," she says accusingly.

"Sorry, did I miss something? Did I dance around saying "nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah" when I gave her the check?" I ask, my patience wearing thin by now.

"No," she replies.

"Did, did I not thank her – genuinely thank her for everything?" I point out.

"Yes," she replies.

"Did I not credit your getting into Yale with them giving us that money?" I ask.

"Yes, but –," she starts, but this time it's me who's interrupting. How can she agree with all these points and still think I shouldn't have done it?

"Unh uh, no buts," I say upset, coming to a halt. Now we're facing each other. "Listen Rory, I'm not sure if you're aware of how hard it has been for me these past three years to be indebted to my parents," I start. I remember it clearly. Three years ago. Me in front of that house. Fighting with myself, my pride, to go in. Making small talk with my mother, waiting for my father, and then finally swallowing my pride and asking them for money. Of course they knew why I was there. At least Dad did. At least he said it. I'm sure Mom knew as well. I had never come there before unexpectedly. And right now I feel guilty again. I feel that Mom isn't so wrong in her assumptions. I have to ban that feeling. I nearly got that money without conditions – but of course Emily Gilmore couldn't let that happen. Weekly dinners. How I dreaded them. But did I ever even consider not accepting? No, I did it for Rory. Who's accusing me right now, because I paid them back. Because I only did, what I told them I'd do from the beginning on. "I decided a long time ago that I was gonna live my life without their help, but I went to them and I took their money and I'm not sorry I did, it was the right thing for you, but I don't need their help anymore," I finish.

"Fine, but you don't have to just throw it in their faces like that," she says.

"I paid back a loan. You're supposed to pay back a loan. I have Polonius and the entire banking system on my side," I say upset. How can I make her understand? How?

"I just think you could've done it differently," she says stubbornly. A trait she did inherit from me. But at least the point changed slightly by now.

"How?" I ask her, again genuinely interested in her answer.

"I don't know," she replies. Of course you don't, because there is no other way. Emily Gilmore would've always been upset. Upset because she can't control me anymore.

"Take a shot," I challenge her. I want to make her understand that I'm right. That there is no other way.

"I don't know," she replies again.

"Rory, my relationship with my parents is very different from your relationship with them," I start trying to explain myself further. "You only know the warm and fuzzy Richard and Emily, and I only want you to know the warm and fuzzy Richard and Emily because they're your grandparents and they love you, but I have a different history with them and it was not all warm and it was definitely not all fuzzy," I say. Mom and Dad hugging Rory. Mom forcing me to wear silly dresses. To sit still, to be polite to her stupid friends, to accompany her to stupid DAR events. Curfew fights. Rory kissing Mom's cheek. Me crying into my pillow, because – I don't know. It happened so often. Because I was angry at her. Because I was sad. Mom complimenting Rory. Mom criticizing me. "So do not judge me for repaying a loan that I always intended to repay, that I told them from the beginning I would repay, that I had to repay. I will not let them make me feel guilty for doing that and I will not let you make me feel guilty for doing that either," I say. How I wish I wouldn't let them do that to me. I feel slightly exhausted by now.

"I'm sorry," she offers. So did she finally get it?

"It's okay," I accept. I'm tired of fighting. First Mom, then Dad, now Rory. It's my birthday. I was supposed to be happy. I link my arm through hers. I just want to forget. We start walking again. Rounding a corner I can't believe my eyes. The whole town seems to be there and a giant pizza is lowered by a crane. I've never seen anything like this before. That's so great. The perfect thing to take my mind off the ugliness that just happened. "Oh my God. What is that?" I ask her surprised.

"The world's largest pizza. Almost," she replies.

"That is amazing," I say smilingly.

"You like it?" she asks me softly.

"I love it. Thank you honey," I say happily. Slowly we walk towards the pizza and my fun party. "Hey, what happened to Kirk?" I ask her, seeing both his arms wrapped in bandages. She tells me about the cheese accident. Really this could only happen to Kirk. How I love this town. How glad I am I live here and not in some mansion. The people are easygoing and nice and everyone can easily enjoy themselves. So different from Hartford society. I happily greet each and everyone, take a big slice of pizza and give everyone a big smile. Only when I look at Rory I'm reminded of the previous events. She doesn't try to spoil it for me, but as I said – she's not good at faking something. I know she's still thinking about her grandparents. But kid, they'll be fine. I've had worse fights with them.

Still, lying in bed that ugly guilt comes up again. The hurt in Mom's face. It's her I worry about, not Dad. He's guilty himself for not telling her. No, it's Mom I'm thinking about – and Rory. I admit I hadn't thought much about Rory's feelings until she confronted me, but thinking about it she also seems mad because she liked those dinners. How can she like them? I sigh. But she does, I know that. But she's 18 now. When she wants to see them, she can go there. She doesn't need me for that. Though I know she wants us four. But well, Mom was unreasonable as well. And I shouldn't think too much about this. In the end it will work out, it always does. But will it take another 15 years? No, it won't. Mom will be stupid and stubborn – unlike me of course – but at some point we'll give in. Probably because of Rory. As much as I hate this, she is in the middle and I don't see a way getting her out of that. Frustrated I look at my alarm clock. That's what they want, me not getting any sleep because of this stupid guilt trip. And while Rory agreed with me in the end, I know it wasn't 100%. I need to think of something else. Kirk. Kirk and the cheese. Yes, that'll get me to sleep. Hopefully. While that's not working instantly I drift into a dreamless sleep at some point. Despite me fighting against it, Mom's eyes are the last I can remember.


	4. Richard

_And here it is – the final chapter. Thanks again to__** gjoni**__ – especially for suggesting vocabulary Richard would use. I hope you enjoy reading Richard's thoughts. _

**Richard**

I got a letter this week, which in fact should've been sent to my daughter. It's about the investment I made in her name on the day she was born. I'll never forget that day. My daughter. My beautiful daughter. I was so happy. We were so happy. I still see Emily in front of me. Completely exhausted, but happy. I'll always be grateful she gave me Lorelai – even though things didn't turn out as planned. But that day was one of the happiest in our life. When Emily went to sleep I went to secure the future of my child – financially. I invested in real estate. That's my way to celebrate – well that and a good cigar and some scotch. Anyway apparently they're building a road now, the complex was therefore sold and I – well Lorelai to be exact – got a check. $ 75.000.

That check is staring at me right now and I know I have to give it to her. It's hers after all. I don't think she even knows about the investment, so I wonder what she'll say. I also wonder what Emily will say. I fear that she'll be upset. She loves having the girls over – we both do, but I know it means more to her. And of course she'll think that giving Lorelai money will change everything. Oh yes, I know she'll get upset, now that I recall her behaviour when Trix wanted to give them money. So telling her would mean we'd fight. And I don't want that, especially since the outcome is clear anyway. Lorelai will get the money. I have a legal obligation to give it to her. Besides I think things changed between us. Rory is even attending Yale now, something Lorelai didn't want to hear about for years. That means she doesn't despise us anymore or the things we stand for. Given how upset she was when I set up the meeting at Yale, I was really surprised about her behaviour last Friday. I'm sure the money won't change things between us. They'll still come. Sure she could pay us back, but she wouldn't use the money she only has thanks to me, to pay us back. I don't believe that. No, I'll let Karen set up a meeting and Emily doesn't need to know about this at all.

* * *

I'm late. I had to make more calls than I'd planned, so I'm hurrying to get to the restaurant to meet my daughter. I really hope she'll be there. Yesterday she refused to talk to my secretary. My daughter, always having a mind of her own. But coming in I see that she's already there. I apologize for being late, but apparently she used the time to eat pie. Two pieces in twenty minutes. I'll never understand how she manages to keep her figure that way. Especially since I know all the work Emily puts into keeping her weight down. Did she also do all of this twenty years ago? I can't remember. I probably didn't even pay attention to it then, being away so often. I order some iced-tea and Lorelai orders coffee, something she has in common with Emily. After thanking her for meeting me here – which of course got a snide comment about me being here in person and not just sending my secretary in return – I go straight to the point putting the envelope concealing the check in front of her. After some silly guesses of hers, I shortly recount my actions after her birth to her, those which resulted with the letter I got some days ago. After I point out again that in fact she's one of the investors it dawns on her that she's getting a check. She seems happy about it. I thought so – who wouldn't be. Opening it she's positively shocked, repeating the sum over and over again. I'm close to admonishing her to speak more quietly – I'm sure Emily would have – but I don't. She requests a pen and I wonder what's going through her head right now. Apparently shoes and apparently you only get 150 of them – some fancy ones. That's ridiculous, which I point out to her, demanding she doesn't spend the whole sum on 150 pair of shoes. But she should enjoy this money – at least some of it. Just as I'm thinking this went over very well, she gets serious again.

"Listen, Dad, this money isn't, um. . . ," she starts.

"Isn't what?" I ask her.

"It isn't some kind of gift, is it?" she asks.

"Gift?" I ask. Didn't she listen to me? It's an investment that paid off very well. I always had a nose for good business.

"Like a birthday gift. Because if it is, it's too much and I can't –,"

"This isn't a gift," I state, before she can even try to refuse it. Why is she always so stubborn about not taking anything from anyone – especially her parents? Though I have to admit that part of me admires her pride and her determination to be independent. She accomplished a lot, given that she started out with nothing. Still it hurts to think about what could've been, had she accepted some help. She would have been great at Yale, she always was smart. But well, no use dwelling on it. We have Rory now. "I made this investment in your name. You received a check, that's the way these things work. Legally, I'm obligated to give you that. This isn't charity or generosity, it is the law," I explain focussing on her again, making it clear that I won't take this money back.

"It's the law that I get to keep $ 75.000," she muses, looking happily at her check. Finally.

"Enjoy the shoes," I say, smiling at her.

"$ 75.000... so much I could do with it," she mumbles.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find a way to put it to good use," I say.

"Thanks, Dad –," she starts.

"There's no need to thank me, Lorelai," I interrupt her afraid she wants to refuse it again. "As I said I'm legally obligated to give it to you," I explain again.

"I know, but I meant thanks for celebrating my birthday this way. I'm allowed to thank you for that, am I?"

"Yes, you are and you're welcome. I still don't know a better way to celebrate the birth of my beautiful daughter," I say softly, having the picture of a happily exhausted Emily with her newborn baby in her arms in mind. I certainly was afraid to hold her at first - afraid to harm her or break her. One day Emily just pushed her into my arms, leaving me with no choice other than to hold her and I was smitten with my little girl ever since. That is until work took over and she grew up and at some point I didn't recognize my little girl anymore. At some point she turned into a mother, way too soon. I sigh.

"Dad? Are you all right?" Lorelai asks looking at me in a strange way and I snap out of my memories.

"Well, I need to get going again. Excuse me, but there are still more calls I have to make," I say, getting up.

"Sure," she replies, alternating her gaze between the check and me. When I want to reach for my wallet, she speaks up again. "Don't Dad. I'll take care of it. I don't think I'll get poor paying for your tea now," she says, winking at me. "Are you sure you don't want some pie as well?" she asks lightly.

"While the offer is tempting, I really have some work to do. Thank you anyway," I say, giving her a last look before heading back to my car. This really went over well. Of course she had to make sure it's not a gift, but other than that she was very happy. And thinking about shoes and shopping. I knew she wouldn't use the money to give it back to us. That'd be insane anyway.

* * *

Emily was in a good mood for the whole day. I know how much it means to her to have Lorelai over on her birthday. Dinner went very well. We're all in a good mood, this is definitely one of the more enjoyable Friday nights. Sometimes they can be exhausting up to the point where I even ask myself why Emily insists on them when they're just fighting anyway, but I know how much she needs to see them - even if they end up fighting. To her that's better than not seeing them at all. After we sing _"Happy Birthday"_ to her I offer that Lorelai blow out the tapers since apparently Emily sent the cake back to the kitchen too soon. It's nice to make some harmless fun of Lorelai's antics. She doesn't seem to mind as well. When Emily suggests going to the living room for dessert, I offer her my arm and looking into her eyes I see how happy she is. Both of us are smiling broadly.

"Champagne?" I ask them, going to the drinking cart to fill their glasses.

"Trying to get me drunk so I forget that you wouldn't let me blow out my own candles?" Lorelai counters.

"Oh, dear, is this going to be another one of those stories that you tell people for the rest of your life like the bunny story?" Emily asks.

"His name was Murray, Mom," Lorelai replies. Here we go again. I don't know how often I've heard this story.

"Oh, Emily, you had to bring that up," I complain, still filling their glasses. And indeed we hear the story again. How Emily gave it away, because Lorelai was afraid of it and so on.

"I wonder where Murray is now," Lorelai muses, while I hand Rory and her their glasses.

"In a shoebox somewhere, I assume," I say, taking Emily's drink and my own.

"Grandpa," Rory says accusingly.

"Once again, a toast to Lorelai on her 36th birthday," I say, giving one glass to Emily.

"35th," Lorelai says.

"Really?" I ask, sitting down next to Emily. What year is it? 2003. 2003-35… oh yeah…

"You're doing the math?" Lorelai asks me incredulously.

"Right, sorry. To Lorelai on her 35th birthday," I correct myself.

"Hear, hear," Rory says. We all take a sip. Lorelai thanks us for the evening and suddenly reaches into her purse to hand Emily an envelope. We eye it curiously. Emily wonders what's it about and so do I. Lorelai starts with her rabbit again – I thought we'd moved on from that topic – when Emily's tone changes and I'm getting slightly alarmed. She wouldn't have, would she?

"That is what I owe you," Lorelai explains and I can't believe it. She did it.

"What you owe me?" Emily asks, her tone getting hard. How could Lorelai do this? I asked her not to tell Emily about it. Giving her the money is as good as telling her about our meeting. Of course Emily will want to know why she has so much money all of a sudden. Didn't you think about that Lorelai?

"For Rory's school. I promised you I'd pay you back and now I have, every cent. Thank you again for helping us out. There's no way Rory would be going to Yale if it wasn't for this money, if it wasn't for you," Lorelai explains.

"You're welcome," Emily says icily. I know that tone. I know the trouble ahead. Emily will shut down now.

"Okay, so. . . ," Lorelai trails off.

"You must be very relieved," Emily starts. And here we go. I look at my shoes, wishing to be somewhere else. Why did she do this? I prepare myself for the inevitable, listening to Emily and Lorelai, building up to the fight. Emily states that Lorelai's debt is paid, thus we're not needed anymore. I knew she'd think like that – but what's worse, Lorelai doesn't deny it. She slowly starts to say something – what exactly I don't know since Emily takes charge again. She's getting into full force.

"You don't have to deal with us. You don't have to come over for Friday night dinners. It all works out beautifully, doesn't it?" Emily sums it up and I look at my daughter accusingly for a second. Accusingly and resigned.

"This isn't about that, Mom," Lorelai says. What is it about Lorelai? Tell us.

"Oh no?" Emily asks sarcastically.

"No, I owed you money and I paid you back," Lorelai says. I can't even watch this anymore. If I knew a way to end this, I would. But right now I know there's no way to stop them.

"I don't want it," Emily states. Of course we don't want it back. Didn't you know that Lorelai? We never wanted it back. We have enough money. Emily just wanted to be in touch. Are you that naïve or just cruel? Right now I don't know the answer.

"I can't believe you're mad that I'm paying you back," Lorelai says, getting upset as well.

"I'm not mad, I just think it's extremely unkind of you to use this occasion to inform me you won't be coming over anymore," Emily says. Right. You chose your birthday after all. Couldn't you at least have waited another week, Lorelai?

"I didn't say that," Lorelai replies.

"This says that!" Emily cries out, the check still in her hand. I glance at her for a second. I feel extremely uncomfortable. Now Lorelai asks, if Emily wouldn't prefer them to come because they wanted to – not because of some threat. Emily doubts they'd come voluntarily and I have to say experience has shown us that she's right. Lorelai counters that she always said she'd pay us back and that this check isn't a surprise. Of course it is. Especially since Emily doesn't know about the money. How could you do that Lorelai?

"No, it certainly isn't," Emily says, and I can hear how hurt she is.

"I was trying to do a good thing here. When Dad gave me the money …,"

Now I could shake her. Is her goal to ruin everything tonight? I look down. One, two, three…"When Dad gave you the money? When Dad gave her the money?" Emily asks agitated, turning towards me.

"Now, Emily –," I try to reason with her.

"You gave her this?" she asks outraged.

"It was her money," I explain, looking at my angry wife. I feel terrible. I should've told her. Why didn't I tell her? Because I counted on Lorelai's secrecy.

"It was from that investment, Mom," Lorelai chimes in. Shut up!

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of this," I snap turning towards Lorelai.

"Why are you mad at me?" she dares to ask me. Are you serious?

"I told you not to tell your mother about that money," I burst out and as soon as I've said it, I know Emily will give me hell for it – well she would've found out now anyway.

"When did you tell me that?" my daughter asks me. Well when did we meet? Think.

"At lunch," I say nevertheless.

"You did not," she replies.

"I did, too," I counter. I did, didn't I? _Didn't I?_ I meant to.

"Dad, I swear you didn't tell me not to tell Mom," she says, sounding serious. Damn, I must've forgotten. That's what I get for becoming emotional, thinking back to her birth.

"Why do you think I met you in the day at a restaurant, Lorelai? Think," I demand, trying to cover my up mistake.

"I –," she stutters, but is interrupted by Emily. Took her long enough.

"You kept this from me, Richard?" she asks angrily.

"I knew you would be upset," I reply truthfully, trying to stay calm. It's not her fault.

"You lied to me," she points out, visibly upset.

"I had to give it to her. I was legally obligated," I explain, what I should've told her days ago.

"You're also legally obligated to your wife," Emily states. Now that's a typical woman's answer. What's that supposed to mean? You can't compare those obligations.

"Mom –," Lorelai dares to chime in again.

"Don't you talk to me!" Emily snaps at her.

"Now, you're overreacting," I try to calm her. Maybe we can still fix this. Though I don't know how.

"Don't you talk to me either!" she snaps at me.

"Don't be mad at Dad," Lorelai says.

"Stay out of this!" I command. You certainly did enough damage.

"I just –," she talks back.

"Well, don't!" I say, very firmly.

"Mom, please. Just because I gave you this money doesn't mean we're never gonna come over here again. We will come over. Maybe not every week, but there will be the occasional Friday night dinners," Lorelai says. At first I had a glimmer of hope, but then she destroyed it again.

"No, there won't," Emily says curtly. I'm not surprised. I knew she'd shut down. And she certainly doesn't want pity.

"Grandma –," Rory tries to say something. Rory. Poor girl. What does she think about this?

"I don't need anybody doing me any favours. You are released from your obligation, Lorelai. Have a nice birthday, have a nice life, I'm going to bed," Emily says, getting up to leave. I knew she'd react that way. I heard how hurt she is. I have to go after her. To see if she's all right. To apologize.

"Dad –," Lorelai addresses me. But I can't talk to her now.

"Not now!" I say angrily, following my wife. She slams the door in my face. When I open it I see that she's on the balcony. I know she needs her space right now – she hates to let people know when she's hurt. And right now she's hurt very much. I never thought Lorelai would do this. Didn't she know Emily lived for these dinners? Seeing the rigid figure of my wife a few feet away my heart breaks for her. I guess I'm the only one she allows to see her hurt - sometimes. I know now isn't one of those times, so I don't dare to walk up too close. After a while I speak up. "Emily," I address her softly.

"Leave me alone," she says icily. Yes, indeed very hurt.

"Emily, please," I try again. Don't shut me out, please.

"No! Go Richard, go!" she yells, turning around. "Leave me alone. I can't talk about this right now. Go!" she shouts at me and I can see tears glistening in her eyes. She's close to breaking down, I know that. And she'll hate me even more, when I'm here to witness it. As much as I want to console her, I know it's not what she wants. I can only hope it's the right decision to leave her alone now. To respect her wishes. I hope she won't shut me out completely and that I'm able to get through to her later. To explain why I did this. Can I explain why I did this? I give her a sad and longing look before slowly leaving our room. She doesn't call for me to come back. She truly wants to be alone. On my way to the living-room I think that I need to be alone now as well. I wonder if they're still there. With Lorelai you never know, but Rory… My dear Rory. On the last steps I hear the voice of my granddaughter. So they're still there. I know I can't talk to Lorelai right now. We'd get into a serious fight as well and that would make the situation worse.

"You want to leave like that?" Rory asks incredulously.

"I don't think we have much of a choice. They left us," Lorelai replies. Is she serious? What kind of a choice did she give us? But I know that's just her excuse to run away again. If she's good at something it's running. Stepping into the living-room, I can see – well what is it that I see in Lorelai's eyes? Shock? Sadness? Anger?

"Dad. I didn't mean to," – she starts. What? What didn't you mean to? And if you didn't mean to then why did you?

"What? Upset your mother? Why did you do that?" I ask her upset. As much as I don't want to get into this, I just have to ask.

"I was paying my debt. I think you'd approve of such behaviour. I'm sorry Mom is upset, but I can't help it," Lorelai says defensively, a stubborn look in her eyes. It's no use. I can't fix this today. But I have to at some point. I hope I will succeed. For Emily's sake.

"I think you should leave now," I say as calm as I can muster.

"Ditto," Lorelai says, sounding terribly like Emily. The same coldness. Coolness to hide her real feelings. At least Emily does. I wonder if they're really as different as they think they are. She grabs her purse and leaves the living room. Rory comes to me, giving me a hug. I really need one. She's a nice little girl. I have to fix this. For Rory's sake as well. I return the hug, trying to draw some strength from it. It's ridiculous, since I should be the one giving her strength, but right now I feel defeated.

"Tell Grandma that I'll still come here regularly – not occasionally," she says, stressing the last words. "I could stop by after school for example," she offers. I give her a grateful look. She really knows the right words to say. At least something to console Emily.

"Thank you, Rory. You're a good girl," I say, dropping a kiss on her hair.

"Goodbye, Grandpa. See you soon," she says, trying to sound cheerful. I try to put on a smile as well, before she follows her mother outside.

When they're gone I retreat into my study. My haven. I fill my glass with scotch and sit down behind my desk. The one Emily chose for me. In fact she furnished this whole room – the whole house. I wonder how much time I'll give her, but then I have to give myself some time as well. How could I not see this coming? Why did I forget to tell Lorelai to keep it secret? Why didn't I tell Emily the truth from the beginning on? So many questions and yet no answers. I know the scotch doesn't help get any, but it at least calms my nerves. I'd like to smoke a cigar, but then I would be sleeping in the guest room for sure. More scotch – though I have to pay attention with that as well. Getting drunk would only complicate things with Emily further.

Does Lorelai really not want to come back? She said occasionally, that means she still wants to come. Not enough for Emily, but better than nothing, isn't it? I have to see it this way. I need it to appease Emily. And I'll talk to Lorelai. Using the money I gave her, I didn't think she'd sink that low. Does she know how cruel she is to her mother? What did we do to deserve this? She will have to explain this to me. I thought we'd have a better relationship by now. Seems I was wrong. And using this day. At least there's Rory still, our little princess. I don't know what we'd do without her. At least she'll still come.

I need to apologize to Emily. I wanted to avoid a fight by withholding my actions – I should've known it doesn't work. I wonder how mad she is. Will she kick me out again? I hope not. My thoughts go back 17 years and I'm dreading the pictures coming to my mind. Emily lying in bed – not talking, not eating, not doing anything. No I can't let that happen again.

Finally I get up again, walking slowly upstairs, my steps heavy. I wish this would already be behind me. Cautiously I open the door to our bedroom. It's dark. She's in bed, turned away from the door. But I know her – she's not sleeping. How could she? But it also tells me that she's not ready to talk. I quietly undress, thinking about a way to fix this. At least with Emily. First with Emily.

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I'm considering a quick shower, but I can't muster up the energy. And there's no use in prolonging the inevitable. I slowly walk up to her side of the bed, cautiously sitting down. I don't dare to touch her. Seeing her like this, my heart goes out to her. Her eyes are closed, but her facial expression shows hurt nonetheless. She looks vulnerable. I guess that if she were able to see herself now, she'd try to change it. To put on another mask. "Emily?" I start again. Her name. Her beautiful name. No reaction. No sign she even heard me. So I guess she doesn't want to talk. Sighing I get up, lying down on my side of the bed. I know we're both awake. I know what she wants to hear – at least I hope it's this. "Emily, I'm sorry," I offer, finally reaching out to touch her. I barely do, still she flinches. I quickly withdraw my hand. It was too soon. The last words she shouted at me are going through my head. Does she still think that way? "Do you still want me to go?" I whisper afraid of her answer. "Please, say something," I beg putting aside all my pride. I need to fix this.

"How could you do that? How could you give her that money? Behind my back? How could you?" she finally yells, sitting up and switching on her light. "You really want to talk about it now then explain to me how you could do this to me?" she shoots question after question at me. Finally. Her outburst is progress. Even though now I have to justify myself. If looks could kill I'd be in high danger by now, but that's my Emily and that's part of why I love her. Her temper. But I need to calm it now.

"It was her money, Emily," I explain to her calmly. While I think about what to say further, she fires more questions at me.

"Is that your whole explanation? You didn't even tell me about it, is it still secret? Why did she take it anyway? She never takes anything from us. What kind of investment?" she asks angrily.

"Remember when she was born I invested in real estate in her name? They had to sell it now and since the investment was made in her name she gets the check," I explain what I should've told her days ago. The truth. Nothing but the truth now. That's why I add the next sentence, though it means more trouble. "Of course I had to convince her it's not a gift," I finish, preparing for her reply. But what was I supposed to do?

"So you just _had to_ convince her, didn't you?" she asks cynically. I knew it. Still by now I'm getting angry as well. I really try to see her point of view, but does she even try to see mine?

"So what? You want me to keep that money from her? It's legally hers you want me to betray her? My own daughter? Is that what you want?" I ask her angrily.

"I want my girls," she whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek. I can't stand to see her cry, I never could. My anger is gone as soon as it appeared. Softly I wipe her tear away and this time she lets it happen. It's my mistake. She has every right to be angry with me – not vice versa.

"Rory will still come, I'm sure of that," I try to soothe her. "She told me to tell you that she'll come regularly – not occasionally, she specifically said that. Like stopping by after school," I add. Thank God for Rory. At least something good I can tell her.

"She did?" she asks, looking at me, relief in her eyes. I knew it. This calms her. I nod.

"I'm sorry," I offer again, but she doesn't accept yet. I really hurt her. Well me and Lorelai to be exact. For a second I wonder who hurt her more, but that's not the question at hand. "You won't lose them again," I try to convince her of something I'm not completely sure of myself. She gives me an unbelieving look.

"She won't come here anymore," she says, again tears glistening in her eyes. How I hate that sight. That's not my strong Emily. "She doesn't have to," she adds.

"She will, she said so," I reply. I'm desperate.

"She won't. Didn't you hear her? Occasionally. That means Christmas and Easter – at most," she says, taking a deep breath. "After all those years I finally had them back. And you had to go and give her money to repay me," she states, accusation in her voice.

"I didn't think she'd use it to pay us back," I reply truthfully.

"Oh Richard, of course she would. Maybe I don't know her, but you certainly don't either," she states. She's probably right.

"And I'm sure Lorelai will come as well. Please Emily, don't think the worst. You won't lose them again. I promise," I say, hoping I'm able to keep it. I have to.

"And how do you want to keep that promise?" she inquires. I wish I knew the answer to that question.

"I'll keep it. I'll talk to her. I'll do whatever it takes, but you won't lose them again," I simply say. "Please Emily, believe me, this isn't what I had in mind," – I try to change the topic and to justify my actions.

"Yet you kept it a secret," she interrupts me. She's right. I can't deny that. I give her a rather sheepish look I guess.

"You won't go through that again. I promise. Do you believe me?" I ask, looking at her. It's all I can do right now. At first I think she won't respond to that either.

"I'll try," she mumbles after a while and relief goes through me.

"Are you still mad at me?" I dare to ask.

"Yes," she says. Not the answer I'd hoped to get, but at least she's honest. Because judging by her look she's deadly serious about that.

"Forgive me, Emily," I say sincerely. That's all I can do now. And hope that she'll accept.

"I'll try," she replies, giving me a small smile which warms my heart. So she won't stay mad for much longer. That's all I need right now. Cautiously I take her hand and kiss it. She doesn't withdraw. I'm even more relieved.

"Thank you," I say gratefully. So we worked it out. I never doubted that we would at some point, but I doubted it would happen tonight. I'm glad we're not fighting anymore. That way I can focus solely on Lorelai. Emily nods at me, giving me a look I can't read before switching off the light. Still it was a cautious reconciliation – more like a promise of one. I can't sleep and judging by her breathing neither can she. After she turns away from me, I think about following her. Slowly I move in closer, deciding to move back at the first sign she may give me. But it doesn't come. Cautiously I put my arm around her and she doesn't push it away. A warm feeling goes through my body. She's really trying to be forgiving. Right now I'm falling in love with her all over again, promising myself not to hurt her anymore. I know I've broken this promise a lot, still my intentions were honest every time. And I'll fix the Lorelai situation. Somehow I'll be able to give my wife what she wants. Tomorrow I'll hatch out a plan. It has to be possible. I don't want to see her hurt. Breathing in the soothing scent of her hair I drop a kiss on it. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant to," I mumble into it. She puts her hand over mine, caressing it softly. Her way to say that she accepts my apology after all.

"Goodnight, Richard," she says.

"Goodnight, Emily," I reply. Finally we're able to sleep.

***


End file.
